Tears on the Dock
by Conrad Roberts
Summary: Locke Cole reflects on his quest for love and understanding after the events of FFVI.
1. Prologue

Tears On The Dock  
By Nathan Roberson  
What day was it? He didn't know anymore. How many years had it been? He didn't know.   
He threw another rock at the lake. It skipped about three times before sinking to its watery grave.  
A watery grave . . .  
Was there anywhere else to go? This new world . . . everything like it was. Go back to your old ways everyone. Everything is normal. Everyone is alive and healthy.  
Truly healthy?  
He picked up more rocks. He tossed one rock lightly and then threw the other with intense force. The rocks collided and dropped into the lake. The ripples extended to the edge of the dock. He stooped over to see the waves slowly tapering off.  
He brought his gloved hand up to his face. With the other hand he pulled the fingers on the glove off one by one. The glove slipped off exposing his pale hand. It hadn't seen sun in years. As he moved it under the setting sun it seemed almost translucent.  
You had such nice hands.  
Now he asked why to everything. He rarely got an answer he was satisfied with.  
He looked down into the lake. A reflection . . .  
"Remember how it was? Remember?"  
"I try not to remember they way it was then. I don't like those years."  
"Locke . . . what happened? Look at this place. It's all beautiful again!"  
"I can't help it. I feel . . ."  
Locke hung his head in shame.  
A reflection . . .  
He turned around towards the house. They house they had built together. It took all their years to finish the monstrosity of oak that covered the property they had purchased. The well-sized lot of land outside Narshe had served its purpose well. He could look to the West and find the place he had first met Terra.  
"I'll bring you through this. I know I can."  
"You don't know anything Terra. You just . . ."  
"Locke, please!" She had placed her soft hands on his shoulders. What had he become then? He had never been angry or full of rancor.  
"What's happening to me Terra? Why am I like this?" He turned to face her, tears in his eyes.  
"Locke, you're still yourself. You're just . . . You aren't the same on the outside. You've been through so much," she said, clasping his hand in her own. "Don't go. You need me. I need you. Remember the first time we met Locke? Remember?"  
Had she been right all along?  
None of it mattered now.  
As the sun finally slid away behind the mountains Locke walked back to the shore from the dock. He looked out on the new manmade lake they'd decided to live on. He remembered Celes and him, looking at the hole in the earth that would be filled slowly with the coming rains.  
All my tears could've filled it.  
As he went back towards the house it dawned on him that he'd been visiting the dock daily for the past year. It was where he reflected and mourned. Everything had been swept away in an instant. Or so it seemed.   
He turned around to face the water again.  
"Reflecting," he said aloud.  



	2. First Reflection

Tears On The Dock

Part I – Broken Reflections 

First Reflection

He hadn't been sea sick in days.

Locke stared at the sharp jaw that framed Edgar's face.

"Did you love her?"

Locke sighed and looked at the floor. The wood was dusty and neglected on this barge. It seemed unlike Edgar.

"Why are you back to all of this Edgar?"

"What else is there, eh Locke?"

"This isn't a world of ruin anymore. Can't you go back to your castle? Can't you go back to all your riches and pleasures of royalty?"

"Locke, I don't want my castle." Edgar placed a hand on Locke's shoulder and moved behind the young treasure hunter.

"Edgar, don't."

Locke felt the hands of Figaro's old king run along the back of his head.

"I think she loved you." Edgar whispered.

"What happened to the old womanizer I used to know?"

"He died with the old king."

The hand moved down Locke's back.

"You think I'm beautiful, don't you?" Locke asked.

"Who doesn't?"

Locke pushed his arms backwards and moved away from Edgar.

"No!" Locke shouted, watching Edgar regain his composure.

"Why can't you try Locke?" Edgar asked.

"It's not what I want Edgar. I don't need this!"

"What do you want then?" What do you need?"

"Nothing you can give me." Locke scoffed and moved towards the doorway in the cabin. Edgar quickly ran to the door and blocked Locke with his arm. The jewelry that covered Edgar's blue sleeve shimmered in the light of the oil lamps beside the door. Locke quickly gazed at the radiance before trying to shove Edgar away.

"Give me a chance." Edgar said.

"I already have." Locke applied more force and moved Edgar's arm away from his destined path. He opened the splintered door and ascended the dark staircase that lead to the upper deck of the ship. As he came out into the daylight and smelled the salts of the ocean he heard the sound of the staircase groaning behind him.

"Where the hell are you going to go Locke Cole?" Edgar stepped out of the dark stairwell to reveal his glowing blonde hair. "Last I remembered we were aboard a ship at sea."

"I can jump off." Locke said.

"Lately you have been partial to running away from things." Edgar smirked.

_You bastard._

Locke swung at Edgar with his gloved fist. Edgar caught the fist with quick reflex and pushed Locke down softly. He landed on his back and stared up at the former king.

"If this is how you want to make me swoon over you, it's not working."

Edgar laughed. He extended his hand to Locke. The young silver-haired adventurer clasped it and was pulled up by Edgar.

Locke felt foreign lips press against his own.

_You _sly_ bastard._

Locke wanted to break from this surprising kiss Edgar had duped him with. But as he longed to abruptly end the embrace part of him yearned for it to go on. The kiss was warm and inviting. He felt enveloped in passion and . . .

_Comfort._

The kiss concluded with Locke staring into the beautiful and mature eyes of Edgar. Edgar seemed much older and wiser than Locke, yet they were only a year or two apart. Locke didn't know what caused this maturity in Edgar. Perhaps being raised as a king caused your age to develop sooner.

"Give in." Edgar said.

How he wanted to! For so long the feeling of a kiss had been all but lost to him. He needed the comfort. He needed to feel wanted and needed again. He needed . . .

Sex?

Was that all he wanted, a quick thrill from this beautiful royal man? He remembered the words he had heard a few years ago.

"You just want some damn cheap sex to make everything better!"

Memories hurt.

Locke gasped.

"What is it?" Edgar asked.

"I . . . I can't give into this. I don't want a quick comforting thrill."

Edgar laughed again. "Didn't I say the 'womanizer' died with the king?"

"You mean . . .?"

Edgar nodded and gave a light smile. He kissed Locke lightly and wrapped an arm around the soft companion.

_Just give in. You need it._

"Come on." Edgar started walking with Locke down the stairs to his dusty cabin. Locke looked over at the man who was taking each step with confidence and pride. He seemed so much older and wiser. Had he ever loved? Or had Edgar just lived up to his reputation as a "womanizer?"

_You have to ask. Otherwise you'll never know._

"Edgar?"

"What?" He stopped as they reached the door.

"Edgar, I want to ask you something." Locke said, twisting his foot and staring again at the dirty wood.

"Go ahead." Edgar said, running a hand down the arm of Locke.

Locke shivered at his touch and started the ease away from the man. "Edgar, have you ever . . . loved?" Locke lifted his head to see the response in Edgar's face

Edgar's breast heaved forward and collapsed. He pressed his back against the wall and looked Locke in the eyes. The blonde chuckled and looked at the floor.

"Yeah. I loved someone."

Locke looked at his face. Was Edgar going to cry?

"Who?" Locke blurted.

Edgar looked up, the tears welling in his eyes. "You don't want to know Locke. My god . . . You don't want to know."

Edgar stormed through the door and into his cabin. Locke stood outside dumbfounded.

"Did he go off again kid?"

Locke turned around to see a silhouette standing at the top of the staircase.

"You know, I wouldn't be calling me a kid." Locke said.

"Why's that?" The silhouette laughed and started down the stairs.

"Because, last I checked you and that nutcase are the same ages." Locke said, pointing to Edgar's cabin. The footsteps stopped and the man was revealed in the light of the two oil lamps beside the doorway. Yet the pseudonym of "kid" had already given him away. "Since when does Setzer Gabbiani travel with this fiend?"

Setzer laughed. "You haven't changed a bit."

"I wish that were true."

Setzer gave Locke a quick perplexing look before circling around him. As he walked he looked at the old beaten wood of the floor.

"This place isn't the nicest. Doesn't suit the royalty in tow."

"You know he's listening on the other side of that door." Locke said.

"That's my point." Setzer said. "Come on up to the top. We'll give the prince a little time to cool down."

Locke followed Setzer to a wooden table on the upper deck that hand been bolted to the floor. Knife marks were slashed throughout the table. They were the signature of bored sailors and mercenaries trying to pass the time.

"So what brings Setzer aboard a sea ship? Shouldn't you be up in the skies?" Locke grabbed a bottle of liquor Setzer had placed on the table. He picked up a glass that had been sitting on the table and inspected its cleanliness. Locke removed a small flask of water from his belt and squirted a stream into the cup. He swirled it around before tossing the water aside. He grabbed the bronze colored liquor and poured his glass to the brim.

"Don't take all of that in one gulp." Setzer warned.

"Wasn't planning to." Locke sipped the bitter liquid and looked back at Setzer. "You didn't answer my question."

"I can't fly to my destination, simple as that. Now you answer me something."

"What?"

"Why is Locke Cole on a ship with Edgar Figaro?"

"Setzer, we were always good friends."

"Locke, no one's seen you for years. No one's really been worried. We've just been curious. Especially Terra."

Locke felt his stomach tighten. Nausea. Pain. Cramping.

Locke awoke to the hot afternoon sun pounding on his face. He looked from the dock out onto the lake. The fishing rod he had set beside him hadn't even had a nibble.He looked down at the gloved hand.

_It could be getting sun now._

He kept the glove on.

He thought of his flashback dream. The days he had spent not too long ago, traveling with Edgar on his sea ship, the _Floating Figaro_. 

He remembered the warm hands of Edgar running along his back, the full and rich lips enveloping him in comfort.

_Where are you Edgar? I needed you then but I need you even more now._

__The black glove was still there, hiding it all.

Locke watched the glove fly into the waters of the lake. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

"I best check on Edgar." Locke said, abruptly ending his conversation with Setzer. He stood up and proceeded towards the stairway to the lower deck cabin. He stopped along the way to watch a crew -member climb the sail mast.

_If this man falls he is dead. He has nowhere to go but up. If he comes down he will die, or be punished. Is this my life, nowhere to go but up?_

_Or punishment._

_Or death._

__He looked back before moving on to see Setzer still sitting at the battered table, sipping his drink and playing a solitaire card game.

Locke descended the noisy stairs again. He rapped on Edgar's door twice before it opened. No one was standing in the doorway.

Locke slowly stepped inside. "Edgar?"

"Maybe if you'd give in you'd see." The voice came from the left side of the room. Locke turned reflexively to see Edgar sitting in a robe on his bed. The curtain surrounding the bed was halfway closed. Edgar held his head down, refusing to look directly at Locke. "I need you Locke. I know you need me. Please Locke . . . For me at least?"

"Who did you love Edgar?"

He finally looked up. His blue eyes pierced into Locke as he mouthed the name slowly.

Locke lunged for him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was a one-sided affair! I swear!" Edgar rolled off the bed. The curtain ripped with his weight. "Locke, please! Listen to me!"

Locke walked around the bed to see Edgar lying helpless on the floor.

"You're lying!" Locke shouted.

"Locke . . . Please! What's came over you?"

Locke picked up Edgar using the shoulder of the robe. "She did. That's what came over me."

"Locke, it was nothing. I was just a young king and she took over my heart. She knew nothing of it!"

"First you accuse me of running out on her, now you finally admit to me after all this time that you were in love with her!"

"Locke, it was nothing! Nothing happened between us!"

Locke stared at Edgar. "Swear it."

There was a long pause of awkward silence. "Once."

Locke let go of Edgar and punched him in the face. Edgar sprawled backward and rubbed a drop of blood coming from his lip. Locke stood over him and picked him back up. He pulled Edgar close and gave the blonde a long kiss.

"I give in."


	3. Second Reflection

Second Reflection

Second Reflection

They smiled at each other before kissing once more.

Celes kept the white sheet pulled over her body as Locke slid out of the bed.

"I love you," she said.

Locke smiled back at her. He yawned and walked over to the window that looked out onto Lake Obel, the manmade lake where they had erected their dream home. It had only been complete for a week now. Their first night in it was amazing. Locke and Celes ate a large and exquisite dinner with the Figaro brothers and Setzer. After they party had left the couple got drunk on wine and made love in their new home.

And now the first night had ended. So began the first day.

"This place, it's beautiful." Locke said.

Celes smiled again. "I don't think we could've chosen any place better." She followed suit and unraveled herself from the sheets. She stood up, wearing her long green nightgown studded with diamonds on the shoulders. Edgar had presented it to her as a gift last night. "Isn't this beautiful as well?" she asked, looking at her new garment. "A nightgown with diamonds. It could only be from Edgar."

As Locke looked at the garment he drifted into a reverie.

And Celes recalled the previous night as well.

"He's quite foolish for asking such a thing," Edgar said. "The 'Chancellor' knows I am much happier on the high seas. I don't want to be bottled up in that castle, leading a life or uneventful leadership."

"He's even begged me to take the throne." Sabin said.

Celes shot Sabin a quizzical look while cutting into her lobster. The thick meat was scattered across the pale blue plate, intermingling with her side dishes. Edgar had gave Locke his adequate share of the shellfish caught by the fishermen aboard the _Floating Figaro_.

"If I was the Chancellor I wouldn't even bother to ask you Sabin, I'd know your answer." Locke said, dipping a piece of the lobster into the hot bowl of butter.

"Yes, you're quite busy training Gau. How is that coming along Sabin?" Celes asked.

"He's progressing well," Sabin said, pausing to scoop some rice into his mouth. "But I'm not only training him in the ways of combat. I have to help make him civilized."

"Still own that tux?" Setzer asked, laughing through a smirk.

Sabin laughed along with the rest of the party.

"I'm afraid Gau and I are minimalists when it comes to clothing. We spend a majority of the day training. We can't restrict our movement."

Locke looked over the navy blue suit Sabin had worn to the dinner. A gold trim ran down the shoulders and forearm. It circled and ran the length of each pant leg as well.

"Your choice of clothing tonight doesn't seem so minimal." Locke said.

You'll have to thank my brother for this outfit," Sabin said. "I own nothing to compare with the likes of this."

Locke looked over the older Figaro brother. Edgar always seemed to be partial to green, though Locke couldn't complain. He was quite stunning in the color. On this night he wore a white ruffled shirt covered with a large green cloak. The cloak was embroidered with an intricate blue pattern on the shoulders, causing the outfit to mesh with the bright-eyes royal perfectly.

"Locke?" Edgar asked.

Locke snapped back to attention, straightening his back in the chair. "Yes?"

"You seemed to . . ."

"Flash out? Yes, I'm sorry." Locke returned to his lobster. He stared down at the fragments of exoskeleton scattered across his plate.

Celes cleared her throat. "Setzer, how's your business doing?" She glanced at her lover next to her. He was content on his plate, not wanting to look up to face her. 

_Maybe what I thought is true_.

She let out a small sigh. How many years ago was it when she had made one certain trip to Figaro Castle?

_Edgar, you never told me why_.

Why did she give in to his pleading?

"Celes, you are my love! I need you!"

_Of course you did Edgar._

"Well, offering the service was a great idea. In fact, I've had to build three more airships to serve all the customers." Setzer replied.

"I would presume that air travel would be popular." Celes said smiling, trying to push back her thoughts of Edgar.

She caught the handsome man gazing in her direction, his sharp blue eyes peering at her from the opposite end of the table. 

And she welt them whisper to her.

"I still remember," they said.

Locke took a few steps towards her. He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Diamonds or no diamonds, you're the radiance here." He kissed her gently. She smiled and looked towards her feet. Locke ran a hand through her golden hair before kissing her forehead and breaking the embrace.

"When do you leave today?" Celes asked.

"I can't go today. I'll have to send a message to Edgar that I won't be going along this time." Locke answered.

"Will we be able to manage until he sets out again?"

"I think so. The last expedition yielded a lot. We should be covered for the next two months."

"You always have everything worked out don't you?" Celes asked, striding towards him for a kiss.

He gave her the kiss she desired and sat down on the bed. She sat next to him, forcing him to turn towards her. He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her again. "Well, if you aren't leaving, then how are you going to spend this day?"

"With you."

She used her hand to push off the shoulders of the nightgown. Locke wrapped his arm around her back. She fell back towards the bed. He followed her.

As they lay naked wrapped in the sheets of the bed, Locke entangled with the woman that loved him. She was pondering about how to start a conversation with Locke that she had wanted to initiate for quite some time.

"Locke?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever thought about . . . Have you ever thought about children?" Celes asked, biting her lip.

He rolled over to face her. "Who hasn't?"

"But what do you think about having children?"

"Well my dear," he grabbed a strand of her hair and twirled it around his fingers, "I think we should wait for now."

"Well, what is there to wait for?"

He looked her in the eyes. "We'll find out."

Locke sat in a small wooden chair on his dock. He turned his head to the left to let his eyes linger on the abused paddle boat that was tied to the dock.

"Do you remember the day when we took that to the center of the lake?" He stopped to laugh. "I miss you." A smiled played across his face. He stood up and walked towards the house.

_The house we built_.


	4. Third Reflection

Third Reflection

Third Reflection

Take your ship beyond Miranda. I'll be there.

Locke read the through the note once more before stuffing it in a pocket on his vest.

"And if she's not there?" Edgar asked.

Locke sighed and sat on the railing that lined the dock of the _Floating Figaro_. "When can you come back?"

"We have to head towards Thamasa. I'd say five days at the least."

"Have any supplies I can take?"

Edgar turned his head to the stairwell that lead to his cabin below deck. "I might. The real question is what can you manage to carry."

Edgar let his eyes drift towards the fiery orange sun that was sliding away behind the horizon. The sea was a serene sleeping child on this day. The ship was gliding slowly around the peninsula where Miranda rested. Edgar squinted to watch a small stack of black smoke billow away from the town.

"They've built new factories." Edgar said.

"Miranda trying to be the next Narshe?" Locke asked.

"You haven't been there, have you?"

"Not in the longest time, Edgar."

"Any time post-Kefka?"

"You know, I don't think so."

"Well Miranda easily has New Vector beat for technological advancement. They're putting a hard fight up against Narshe."

"Aren't they members of the New Regime?"

"Yes. I honestly don't care. I think the Regime and the Narshe Republic can co-exist peacefully. Neither one is an extremist terror group like the old Empire was."

"Seems like you know a lot about the New Regime, Edgar. I haven't heard much about them."

"Yes. They asked me to be their king." Edgar said with a soft smile.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing at all." Edgar replied.

Locke lowered his eyes. "C'mon, say it."

"Say what? That their beautiful ambassador came to pay a visit to me that ended with her clothes crumpled on the floor?"

Locke let a burst of laughter overcome him, as did Edgar. Locke almost fell from the railing he sat immersed in the humorous thought.

"You never cease to amaze me Edgar."

"I learned to stop amazing myself a long time ago." 

They stopped talking for a few moments before Locke chimed in. "I'll take what supplies I can, all right?"

"Now are you confident that she'll be there?" Edgar asked.

"Well," Locke shifted his position, "Well, yes."

Edgar smiled. "I'm glad you're hopeful."

"I'm glad I can stay hopeful."

As Locke kicked his feet in the cool waters of Lake Obel he smiled at the thought of his old friend Edgar. And yet two days before he'd been depressed over his long gone friend, who had for a short while became something else . . .

"I give in." Locke said.

Edgar pushed back, away from Locke. "Locke, you don't get it."

"What is there to get Edgar? You want me. I'm giving in to you." Locke stared into the blue eyes once again. He saw something behind the,. He had only sensed it lightly beforehand. Something not so truthful was lurking inside Edgar.

"I'm afraid you've failed her test Locke."

"We'll drop you off in Kohlingen, okay Locke?"

"They'll destroy me!"

"Find your way on your own!"

"Love is not a game!"

The memories of spoken words were dripping like rain through Locke's head.

_All the rain that filled this lake . . ._

__He gathered his thoughts again. He focused, not wanting to bring himself more pain.

_Is that even possible?_

Her soft lips separated from him slowly. He grabbed her left arm and spun her around with grace. Locke pulled her in and kissed her again before letting her to herself.

Rachel smiled and leaned against the marble wall. "Why can't I go?"

"I can't lose you. This expedition is dangerous. It's just that simple."

Rachel brushed the flowing strands of black hair behind her. "It's been so long. I haven't traveled with you in the longest time."

"Not in the longest time, Edgar."

He felt his memories overlapping.

Locke sauntered towards his beautiful mate. He placed his hands on her face. "I just can't lose you."

And then the Empire killed her.

And then his vendetta against the Empire had begun.

_I was full of hate. Hate avenging love._

He flashed back to the events on the Floating Continent.

"I Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate! You!" Kefka shouted, clutching his wound from the sword Celes had jabbed him with.

"Celes." Locke whispered. He looked back at the house. It seemed to be a reflex whenever her name was thought of or mentioned. "Celes." He said her name again and chuckled.

_Are there any painless memories, or at least memories that don't pain me as much?_

As night was beginning to fall the water was warming as the air was cooling. He drew his feet from the lake and started back towards the house.

"I might have loved you Celes."

__


	5. Fourth Reflection

Fourth Reflection

Fourth Reflection

And yet another day passed in Kohligen.

How long had he been here? Seven months? Perhaps eight?

Locke stepped away from the small harbor that Kohligen had sprouted since the previous time he had been there. He had no money, no food, and no clothes. Edgar had dumped him here.

_To die._

His stomach was doing cartwheels inside him. It had probably been three days since he had ate something you could call a meal. Now winter was beginning and he needed clothes to make it. Yes, Kohligen did stay warmer than most cities due to its relative location to the ocean, but Locke's life revolved around alleyways and curbsides. 

His slow steps quickly became a staggered saunter. He hadn't drunk any alcohol. At least he didn't think there had been any in the miscellaneous fluids he'd drank from the trash.

So would this be the tragic end to Locke Cole's story? After saving the world he became a dirty vagabond on the streets of Kohligen, the very town where he grew up. And in recalling that, where were all the familiar faces he knew? The whole place seemed to have changed since he had last been there.

_Have I spent that long cooped up or on the sea?_

__The siren sounded.

He saw the mass of sailors dashing for toward his stance on the harbor. The remaining people of Kohligen were headed in the opposite direction to take cover from the nearing onslaught.

Locke had nowhere to go.

He decided people would be abandoning drinks and meals in the tavern. The building was very unstable, everyone would evacuate from it leaving the opportunity for Locke to gather what he needed to survive for a few more days.

He supported himself on the railing of the staircase as he neared the entrance to the tavern. Two people, two women, darted past him down the stairs. The flash of speed left him disorientated for a moment. He started his ascent again and pushed with his body on the door. It opened to what was a Utopia for this new Locke Cole. Spreads across the vacant tables were half-finished meals and drinks. The bottles behind the bar were open for the taking. Locke smiled in satisfaction.

Locke sat down at the bar on one of the red stools. "Beer, okay? And add a pinch of salt." Locke knocked back the glass of scotch before him. "Hit me again, Ed."

A large crash shook the tavern. "Damn Ed, when are they gonna win this war?" He downed another drink before finding a plate of unfinished chicken. "Down the hatch."

Smoke could be smelt nearby. "God Ed, you know, I've been coming to this bar for 20 years, right? Man, been running around for these past 20 years, looking for what? Well what else is there to look for, huh? What's left in this damn world? That's right, Ed. You got it. Nothing. No princess to save, no nothing. I've lost it all now, all my friends, and my love. I got nothing. That's why I'm drinking myself in tonight Ed. No, no, no. You're not stopping me, okay?

"I don't want it to go on. I lost Rachel. I lost Celes. I even lost Terra! I'm through!" He paused for a moment before continuing. "Ed, you got anything to help me out with this?" Ed slid him a small box. "Thanks Ed." Locke opened the box and stood up from behind the bar. He dropped one of the pills into a random drink. He started to laugh as he slid two other drinks over. "Tonight Ed my fate rests in itself alone." Locke started to move the drinks around like an old magician's card game. Eventually he knocked one over. "Shit." He opened the tiny tin case again. "My chances are better now, eh Ed?" He dropped another pill in. He started switching the scotch glasses around again.

"That's pretty risky."

"Shut the hell up. Who are you to tell me what to do? Last I checked you were dead and gone. Just like the rest of them."

"Locke, you have a life. You don't need to end it."

"When you have to resort to rats to survive, come back and tell me this, all right?" Locke picked up one of the glasses. 

"Won't you be dead?"

"Maybe I will."

"Don't do this Locke."

And down went the scotch.

He sat down on the barstool. "I never liked you, okay?" He felt his nerves starting to ease up. "You were always the one whining at me. Telling me how you loved me oh so much. Then you go off a screw any other damn man you please, right? So why don't you just fuck off?" His vision started to cloud. "Sticking around eh? God, you just don't know when to quit. Can't leave me alone. 'Oh Locke, I love you.' Tell that to all the dick you've sucked." Limbs started to go numb. "So now it's the silent treatment?" He fell back in the barstool. The stool broke his fall, keeping his head from impacting with the floor. "Trying to kill me now? How low will you sink?" As he finished his sentence he found that he couldn't seem to open his mouth to speak anymore.

_You're not going to help me up? Seems just like you._

His head got heavy. His eyes closed. Blackness. Blackness was all around.

_Damn, what the hell are they burning?_

He felt the floor shaking. The blackness ended for a split-second as his eyes flashed open. It was quick enough to see the roof coming towards him.

"Locke!"

The blackness concluded again. He awoke to the sight of small hands caressing his battered face.

"You're awake," said the sharp female voice.

"Yeah. Uh, what happened?"

"Kohlingen was attacked by Narshe. You were in the tavern when it collapsed." Locke looked up at the girl that was beside him. She had short dirty blonde hair that parted down the center of her scalp and curled at her ears.

"Who are you?" Locke asked.

"I saved you. My name's Clefara." The young girl smiled with warmth. Locke found her to be compassionate yet . . . Yet she was enticing.

_What am I thinking? This girl's what? 18? Maybe she's in her mid-twenties at the most. I'm already 35 . . . No. I can't._

She smiled at him again. "Oh you dirty swine."

Locke's jaw dropped. He started to stammer but was drowned out by her sudden uproar of laughing. "I was just kidding, ok Locke?"

Locke wiped the worried expression off of his face. He sat up in the bed to look around the room she'd placed him in, but found it to be without light.

"The attack severed the power cables." Clefara said. "But we're leaving here anyways." She stood up and went to what looked like the outline of a desk.

"Leaving?" Locke asked, looking down to find himself naked except for a small pair of underwear. He blushed thinking that this young woman had seen him exposed like this.

"Yes, Kohligen won't be in good condition for awhile. And if Narshe occupies this place you won't be safe."

It was as the powers had shifted entirely. With the people who formed the New Regime tiring of Narshe's aging and archaic procedures slowly enlightening others to their beliefs and findings the pendulum of power was starting to swing the other way. When the New Regime found the world declaring them the rulers of the South Continent's West Peninsula they changed their name to The Miranda Regime. Although the Regime had originated in Albrook it had not stayed there for long. Locke remembered the day he was sailing with Edgar to see the plume of industrial smoke over Miranda. It was just about that time, two years ago, when the Regime had moved their operations to Miranda and began to expand their power.

Although Locke and Edgar had both agreed that Narshe and the Regime were peaceful governing bodies, that prediction was false. As a new president upset the predicted vote. Locke had heard worry from Arvis, who was Chancellor of the Senate. The new president, Karan Mengsk, was a tyrant with nothing to work with. The Regime was growing by the day. Soon enough he was launching attacks on those that "defied" him. But with Narshe's dwindling power and support, Mengsk found himself grid locked. 

The original Returners and those with sense joined with the Regime. They soon controlled the world, with Narshe having loyal pockets spread sparsely throughout the land.

Suddenly Locke felt her warm hand return from the desk. "Come, we don't have much time till those bastards will be here to claim this place."

"Got any clothes?" Locke asked.

Clefara blushed and pointed to what looked like a corner. Locke felt his way over and found his clothes resting on a chair. They felt clean for once.

"You've seemed to have done a lot for me." Locke said.

"You deserve it."

And as his next day on the dock concluded he felt everything piece together.


	6. The Beginning

Part II – Piecing From The Shattered Valued Gateway Client Valued Gateway Client 3 5 2001-10-16T03:24:00Z 2001-10-18T22:46:00Z 2 1153 6574 Gateway 54 13 8073 9.2720 AUTHOR'S NOTE: 

            This is PART II to my story _Tears On The Dock._ If you haven't read Part I, GO BACK AND READ IT!

Part II – Piecing From The Shattered 

The Beginning

                One by one the memories pieced back together. Like pieces in a massive puzzle the portrait flashed before his eyes. Once again all was clear. He quickly counted on his fingers. His memory had returned.

                "Thank you Clefara," he said in a hushed whisper as he gave a quick exhale.

                Today he was sitting on his dock in the early hours of the morning. The sun had just rose across the crimson horizon. It was the dawn of a new day in his life.

Two years after the defeat of Kefka . . .

                Locke ran a hand through his hair. It had been ruffled throughout this day, the first day in the new home belonging to him and Celes. He had woken earlier to reflect on the dinner they had had to christen the house on the night before. After a few words with his mate they ended up returning to bed.

                Locke continued to stare out the window to his right. The sun had started its descent behind the mountains of Narshe. He turned his attention back to Celes to find her stirring in the first signs of waking. He stroked her cheek with his pale hand. A quick glance at the clock reminded him that within the next hour he had been scheduled to rendezvous with Edgar in Narshe.

                Celes sighed lightly. "What time is it?"

                "Almost five." He continued to stroke her cheek with light grace. Locke seemed to have a grace few men could match. The only person who he thought of as more graceful with love was Edgar. Although Locke doubted the old royal had ever truly felt love for one of his numerous concubines.

                _At least he fakes it pretty gracefully._

                Locke had unfortunately lied to her earlier about their financial situation. They could continue on their current assets for two more weeks at the most; yet Locke felt the need to be ahead. He pondered ways to go about telling her that he was leaving for the expedition with Edgar. They were heading to the site of the old Fanatic's Tower where there was said to be an amount of riches hoarded underground.

                He ran his hand through her shimmering hair before he stood up. "Dear, I must go."

                As Locke marched down the trodden path to Narshe his mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions. He was concentrating on Celes. He had left her alone for now, gone to see Edgar for the next mission. It was to be her first time alone in their new residence, and Locke's first time away from it. She had pleaded for Locke to stay, or for Locke to let her accompany him.

                _Remember the last time you left your woman behind?_

                He let out a lonely sigh while kicking a stone on the cement path. He stopped for a brief moment to gather the surroundings of this path. The air was dusty from the frequent use of the path. Although it had been freshly laid its use was already common. To the left and right were endless fields garnished with daffodils. Though calm on this particular day one would normally find them billowing in the breezes that stayed consistent around Narshe.

                _Was I right to leave her behind?_

"I really don't know."

                "Rachel!" Locke spun around in a split-second.

                "Locke, you silly! I'm not physically there."

                "So I'm just going crazy."

                "No, I'm with you in spirit. Didn't think I'd hold true to my word?"

                Locke laughed. "So spirits are real?"

                "I thought you would think so. I seem to recall you seeing your fair share of them a few years ago."

                Locke laughed once more. "I was just kidding my darling."

                "I come back and you waste all our time just kidding around, eh?" Rachel asked from the interior of his mind.

                "We're . . . Timed?"

                _Yes, but we'll have more time if I communicate like this. Just stick to thoughts only. Don't speak._ Locke noticed that the voice that seemed to be coming from a distance on the path was gone. Rachel was speaking directly into his mind now. Her voice was clearer than it had ever been before/

                _Rachel, tell me, am I safe leaving her there?_

_                These aren't times of war anymore Locke. I would definitely assume Celes is safe at your Obel home._

_                I'm just worried. The circumstances—_

_                They're just as mine were, no?_

_                Yes. I think that's it._

_                Locke, you worry about her too much. That shows how your love really is true._

Locke chuckled. _You always have the right answers Rachel. I love you, more now than ever._

_                I know. _

                And then she was gone in a wisp of the common breeze that had finally returned.

DESTROY CORRUPTION!

VOTE KARAN MENGSK FOR PRESIDENT!

                As Locke wandered into Narshe he saw a gigantic poster plastered against a large building being removed by a few workmen. The political races had ended the day before. If this Mengsk's poster was being removed it meant he had no doubt lost his race for president.

                _Arvis wins again._ Locke laughed and continued through the narrow street that led to the mountain metropolis.  Narshe was now twice the size of Old Vector and making advances in technology faster than ever.

                Locke took to the sidewalk to allow the handful of automobiles to pass.  _This place is getting huge._ _I used to only see cars in Old Vector._

                "Locke?"

                Locke turned around to see a middle-aged blonde behind him, wearing what seemed to be a highly fashionable navy blue suit.

                "Arvis, congratulations!" Locke exclaimed.

                Arvis laughed. "Thank you Locke. What brings you back to Narshe. I've heard word that you have constructed an eloquent home on Lake Obel."

                "It's taken me two years but it's done. Perhaps you should stop by some time."

                Arvis let out another soft laugh. "If I have the time! Learning the new senatorial procedures will be a long-enduring process."

                "Senatorial?" Locke asked with a quizzical expression.

                "I have my new son Charles. I don't have time to be the president of Narshe anymore. I decided that I would have more free time as Chancellor of the Senate. Of course for now as I said I'll be bogged down with learning new materials, and also learning how to deal with the president. I used to give the Chancellor such a hard time. God I hope he's not like me." 

                They both let out a good laugh before Locke spoke. "Well as soon as you get any free time feel free to come by my home. Just take the new trail for about a kilometer."

                "Will do."

                Locke turned back around and darted back through the crowds of people on the sidewalks. 

                _Get a damned car now that this place supports them._

                He reached the usual meeting point of Wurher's Tavern. The yellow neon sign in the front was flickering as usual. He stepped inside to see Edgar sitting at the bar with a glass of water.

                "They'll serve that to you here?" Locke asked in a raised voice. Edgar spun around on the barstool with a smile.

                "Thought you'd skip this one to stay home and bone your woman some more." They both laughed as Locke took the seat next to him. "You know, never assume a man is drinking water in bar." Edgar shook his glass.

                "I stopped that assumption just as you finished that crass remark."

                "I'm too drunk for formalities." Edgar said.

                "When do we set out?" Locke asked.

                "Tomorrow morning at six Setzer is arriving with the airship. The mountains still surround the area." Edgar explained.

                "An area of the world that didn't change." Locke mused.

                "It's evil. That's why." He leaned back on the barstool, taking a drink from his glass.

                Locke nodded. "Well if it's at six I best go to the hotel for the night. The sun was hitting me hard on the trail."

                "If your wife was here I'd suspect you were leaving to screw her again."

                "My god Edgar, you act like we're rabbits." Edgar had a good laugh. Locke exited the tavern and continued back down Beluah Avenue. 

                _I love that guy._

                "Cole?"

                Locke turned around expecting another old friend. Instead he saw a brown-eyed stranger.

                "Yes, I'm Locke Cole."

                "The one from the Returners?"

                "Yes."

                The stranger stepped closer. "Well, I find you to be my idol."

                Locke laughed, and suddenly fell to the ground in pain.

                There was blood pouring from his chest.


	7. Sitting In A Room With White Knuckles

Sitting In A Room With White Knuckles Valued Gateway Client Valued Gateway Client 1 0 2001-10-18T22:55:00Z 2001-10-18T22:55:00Z 3 1478 8427 Gateway 70 16 10348 9.2720 

Sitting In A Room With White Knuckles

                He awoke on an old operating table to see a dim yellow light shining down him. The room was covered in grimy yellowed tiles. He felt his chest to mind a mass of bandages covering the stab wound the brown-eyed stranger had inflicted. He rolled his head to the left, finding that the bandages encircled the underside of the operating table. 

                _Interesting._

Locke reached down to pull the bandages apart in order to free himself from the table. He received a painful electrical shock causing his hand to jerk back to his chest.

                _Dammit, what is this?_

                Suddenly he thought of unraveling the bandages on his chest, but caught his err quickly.

                _I'll end up bleeding to death. They have me trapped and are trying to torture me._

"Yes I think that is our plan."

                "What the . . ."

                "Over here." Locke turned to his left to find the source of the mysterious and haunting voice. A young man, about the age of 25, was standing in a corner of the dilapidated chamber. His blonde hair had a dim radiance to it under the glow of the yellow light. He stood in a shimmering black cloak made of fine silken fibers. "That is exactly our point. Torture." he said with ferocious discord.

                "I . . ."

                "Don't wonder about how I knew what you were thinking." _I'm incredibly psychic._

                _Is that so?_

                _Yes, now you will do exactly what we tell you to, understood?_

_                Yeah, I understand what you're getting at. But I'm not promising I'll comply with it._

The young man laughed. "The stories I've heard about you Cole, it seems they were all right."

                "I'll take that as a compliment."

                "By all means it is." The young man started towards the operating table. "Ironic isn't it?"

                "What?"

                "Here you are with your pitiful gaping wound bound to an operating table of all things. It has a slightly sardonic touch, no?"

                "I was thinking that. Guess it's those psychic abilities of yours."

                "No doubt it was." The young man stepped closer to Locke, looming over the injured treasure hunter. Locke gazed directly into the young man's soft green eyes, feeling his mind probed by the advanced mind inside the youth's head.

                "Reading my thoughts?" Locke asked in a chagrin tone.

                "No, your memories. You've had quite the life. In fact you're still having it."

                "What are you saying? That I'm thriving while you're dead?" Locke asked.

                "You could say that."

                "Look at you, you're a youthful man still full of life. I'm aging. I'm growing old." Locke said, keeping his sight locked on the green eyes.

                "You haven't sold your soul to this gift. If you devote your life to the psychic power you will be drained of life. For anyone you encounter, you will know all their secrets. Anyone you try to love, you'll know all of their lies. There is no life for someone who seizes the gift as I have will live the remainder of their life as a servant. They can only fill so many wants of their life." 

                "Then why did you 'seize the gift' in the first place?" Locke asked.

                "It has a very lustrous allure. As a very young man of 14 I found it to be a compelling feat to read the minds of others. It seemed like some sort of magical power. Yet there is nothing magical about my abilities. Science has a few simple and just explanations."

                "Can't you relinquish your power?" Locke said, continuing his interrogation. _And I'm the prisoner here, conducting my interview, or interrogation. Perhaps this young man has a passion for irony._

The young man laughed. "A passion for irony, it would seem so, wouldn't it? Well, in answer to your question I have searched for a way to release my power. Unfortunately I have only been able to diminish them for a short period. When they return they are stronger than before. I've given up my hunt for a cure. I have decided to let my powers serve for a cause I support now. It's the most I can do to be somewhat happy."

                "And what is that cause, o mysterious one?"

                He laughed again. "The name is Klay. That's with a K mind you."

                "All right Klay, what's your cause?"

                "For that I cannot tell you Locke. You won't be my prisoner for much longer. I've extracted all I need from you."

                "I'm expendable?" Locke asked the green eyes.

                "Hardly."

                "So are you part of some new rebellious group trying to start up the Empire again?"

                Klay scoffed. "I'm not that low."

                "Then how low are you?"

                "Hmm, I do know a very adequate form of torture. Let's see how low it'll put me."

                "What you have here looks like it could drive someone mad." Locke said, suddenly finding himself headed towards the wall. Although Locke had first noticed his separation from Klay's green eyes, he braced himself as he saw the grimy white tiles coming closer.

                As he prepared for impact Klay came swooping down to stop the wheeled operating table. Klay threw his head back and cackled. "You can't imagine what I have up my sleeve." The blonde leaned in closer. Their eyes locked once more.

                "What are you trying to do with me?" Locke asked fiercely.

                "Everything I intended to do has already been done."

                "Then why are you keeping me here? I don't know who you are, I doubt Klay is your real name, and I have no idea where this location is. I can't give anyone decent clues or leads. Nor can I say I admitted information. I haven't even spoken of my past or my friends. In fact, I know nothing about current politics or military operations!" Locke spat.

                "That's not what I was looking for." Klay took a graceful leap to the ledge lining a small bared window near the low ceiling. "You're worth so much more than you imagine."

                "What the hell are you talking about? Let me go."

                "Look around Locke, see any exits?"

                "That window."

                "The damned bars on this window have enough rust to hold them in for a few more centuries. I want to tell you the truth Locke." Klay said with a wry smile.

                "What?"

                "I'm a prisoner of this place too." Klay pushed himself off of the ledge and plopped his feet back on the dusty floor. "I don't know how to get out either."

                "Then what was all that nonsense about extracting information?!"

                "My assignment. I woke up here one day with a man dressed in a white robe. He told me to wait for my subject and extract his memories when he arrived. At that point I would then be freed from here."

                "They captured you?" Locke asked in a soft yet somber voice.

                "No, I am paid for this work. I was hired. Unfortunately I didn't know the circumstances." Klay replied, focusing on the right wall.

                "How many days have you been confined here?"

                "Three. That's all." Klay answered, again with his eyes intent on the wall.

                "How do you eat? How do you . . . Use the bathroom?"

                "I have meals waiting for me when I wake. If you didn't notice I have a bucket in one of the corners. It's empty after I wake."

                "So you're locked up here until you do what you've been told?"

                "It could be put that way."

                "How can you be sure you'll receive your promised pay?"

                "I have inside sources." Klay paused to lean over the helpless Locke, placing their lips fingertips apart. "Besides, I could destroy all of them easily." Locke felt the lips of the handsome psychic press against his own. Their embrace lingered as Locke let his fragile arms fall around Klay's neck. As their lips parted Klay smiled, his face adding more warmth to the sweltering prison.

                "Locke?" Klay murmured.

                "Yes?" Locke answered, his voice trembling with each sound.

                "I thought you had Celes!" Locke saw Klay's face contort into an expression of rage. He felt the operating table shoved towards the opposite wall.

                _He read my thoughts. He saw that I desired him._

                As Locke predicted, Klay dashed to the opposite wall to stop Locke's collision.

                Locke scoffed. "So you read my thoughts? You're giving me a piece of what I want and then you're throwing it away. Formidable torture I must say."

                "Indeed. Unfortunately we only have the remainder of today. I'm sure after we both sleep tonight they'll separate us."

                "What a shame." Locke said.

                Klay began to circle the operating table. "You can only imagine what I have planned for you to endure. As the sun rises tomorrow you will be a new person."

                "I don't follow you, but then again I really don't care."

                "Was it my little helpless drama act that got you to start wanting me? I think it was." Klay said, looking over his shoulder at the imprisoned Returner.

                "You know I have friends." Locke blurted.

                "Invite them for tea sometime." Klay began to run his hand down Locke's leg. "I can remove your bandages if you'd like. You should be healed by now. Whoever captured you did no more than cut you with a laced blade."

                "Laced with what?" Locke asked, his mind racing with fear.

                "Oh just a mild poison. Just enough to put you out."

                "You mean . . .?"

                "Don't try to escape Locke. There's no way out of here that I know of. Yes you can remove those bandages and find nothing but a healing cut. I do know how to turn off the electrical field on your bed."

                "Then remove both. Let me at least walk free. I promise not to hurt you." Locke said.

                _If I release you Locke, I will only read and speak to your mind. I will refuse to listen to your verbal speech. For what the mind says is the truth. The mouth embellishes it._

_                And what if I don't want you to know the truth?_ Locke asked.

                _That is the reason you and I can never truly love one another._

_                Rachel._ Locke murmured.

                _Yes, she speaks to you this way too, doesn't she?_

_                How do you know so much?_

_                I've been watching you Locke. I've been watching you for a long time._ Klay explained.

                _And your reason for watching me is what? Just serving your mysterious cause?_

_                I want to fall in love with you._

                Locke looked down to find that he was standing. Klay's arms were wrapped around Locke's waist, holding Locke close. Klay gave Locke another affectionate smile.

                _Then why are you torturing me?_

                _I still am. _As Locke received Klay's telepathic voice he felt their lips join once more. The kiss lasted even longer than the previous one. Locke felt a hand pressing against his pants. He realized Klay was fiddling with the button.

                "This is . . . Barbaric." Locke whispered.

                _Locke, your thoughts say otherwise._

                Locke admitted to himself that Klay was right. He wanted this.

                _Klay, give me what Celes cannot._

_                I shall._

"You can't love." Locke whispered.


	8. Realization Of Two Pasts

Realization Of Two Pasts Valued Gateway Client Valued Gateway Client 3 2 2001-10-28T03:02:00Z 2001-10-28T03:02:00Z 2 1136 6479 Gateway 53 12 7956 9.2720 

Realization Of Two Pasts

                As Locke's foot stirred in the cool water it hit him.

                Locke raced feverishly from the dock to the side entrance of the house. He fiddled with the tarnished knob until he realized that the door was locked. He lifted the straw mat under his feet and picked up the damp spare key. He jammed it into the keyhole with great force and turned.

                Once inside Locke dashed to the bedroom.

                "Damn," he muttered.

                He raced outside to the small shed at the rear of the house. He pulled open the creaking door to find a mass gathering of dust and cobwebs.

                Locke ran his hands across a workbench until his desired item was discovered: a crowbar. He made yet another mad dash to the house and back into the bedroom. Locke leaned against the wall and ran his hand down its length. He felt a slightly loose board and smiled. Locke jammed the crowbar into the crevice between the boards. He pushed until a resounding groan assured him that he'd accomplished his task.

                Using his hands he ripped the board from the wall. His hands dove into the darkness until they found what they were seeking.

                Locke pulled the book out of the wall. Its cover of cracked red leather was dust ridden and filthy. He brushed off what he could and strolled back to the dock.

                His fingers traced along the embroidered words on the cover. "Reflections," he mused. Locke opened the book and began to read.

                I don't know if I should call this a diary or a journal. It's really not any of those. It's just that these days I'm always thinking back on things. I reasoned that writing them down might help sort all my confusion.

                So what is the source of all my disorder? I'm out searching for it right now, and not in the mental sense. No, I'm searching for the culprit of my confusion physically.

                His name is Klay.

                Since our first meeting I have learned a lot of different things about him. Though let me tell you, since our first meeting I haven't spoken more than 20 words at a time to him.

                But I have seen him more times than I've spoke to him.

                So why does Klay confuse me? I've only really got to spend time with him once. It doesn't make much sense. I know all these facts collide. Yet I sit here in my room aboard the _Lady Luck_,an airship purchased from Setzer Gabanni, a very old friend of mine.

                Our airship pilot is Clefara Isidore. She found me drunk and ready to die hal a year ago in Kohligen.

                But let's get back to the mysterious Klay. Do I know his surname? No. His whereabouts? No. Klay travels as much as I do, seeing as I'm chasing him.

                I best get to the point. The reason I chase Klay is because I'm in love with him. The story of how I came in contact with him is a majestic one.

                Locke's eyes scanned over his account of the events inside the rancid imprisonment chamber. He started flipping and skimming through the crisp pages until he found the tale of his escape.

                So as I said before, Klay had been wrong. We did not wake in new locations. At least I didn't. Klay was gone and I was still imprisoned. A meal was left for me on a small tray. The waste pail had been emptied. After eating I started searching the chamber for an exit. If there was a way in there had to be a way out.

                My obvious inclination was the window. Well, it was locked from the outside. After giving the glass over 30 kicks I concluded it was impenetrable

After that I felt up and down the tiled walls, feeling for a crack or crevice in the tile partitions. After thoroughly examining each tile individually. This process brought forth no results after two hours of time wasted.

Eventually I ended up slumped against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. Immediately I started swinging from each pipe in the steel labyrinth above me looking for _something_. Some pipes scalded my hands while others froze them. Eventually I found two fat pipes that were mildly warm. I nestled myself between them to rest. My energy was dwindling. I was desperate for escape.

I started to wonder how Klay had survived his few days here. Of course, I then immediately thought that he could've been lying about the length of his stay. I did accuse him of using his story of sorrows to make me feel for him. From what I recall he admitted to this.

                How Klay eludes me.

                I stared up at the actual ceiling. It was nothing but plain grey cement. I ran my hand along its rough texture until I found a cold round object stuck in place. As I started to tug it came off with relative ease. I examined the metallic half-sphere and the mess of wires from where I had yanked it from its socket in the ceiling. I instantly realized it was the shock transmitter for the operating table.

                Boredom was setting in again. Therefore I became more desperate for escape. I disconnected a segment of loose pipe and proceeded to smack it against the window. I was lucky not to have water or some other substance come rushing out at me when I removed the pipe. If noxious gases were now filling the chamber, well I'd find out when my lungs started collapsing.

                After striking the window some 50 odd times I gave up. Boredom started setting in again. I hurled the pipe at the opposite wall and chipped away some of the tile. I jumped down to the floor and took my place slumped against the wall. I dozed off for a short period. After waking I decided I needed to do something. I picked up the shock transmitter off of the floor and started fiddling with the wires. Eventually I hopped back up amongst the pipes. I felt the spot where I had pulled the transmitter from and felt a mess a wires. I started playing with these too.

                Let me just state that I Locke Cole am the luckiest man alive. 

                After 10 minutes of connecting and disconnecting wires I watch the window slide away.

                I jump down onto the floor and sprint into the window space. A find a small piece of paper left in this shaft that measure about a meter high.

    Dear Locke,

                Looks like you beat them. Good luck.

                                                                -Klay

                I chuckled before crawling through the tight shaft. So Klay apparently had left willingly or was escorted from the chamber. I started to think all he had done was tell me a mess of lies. If he did it would make sense.

                But I didn't want that to be the truth.

                As I crawled through the steel shaft I thought about the enticing kisses Klay gave me. I thought about the majestic love we made after he released me.

                Yet he swore he couldn't love me. I wanted that to be a lie as well. If all my thoughts were pure and undeniable then what would his psychic powers matter? I started to think that Klay had not experienced true love. I wanted to love him. I had the thought that I could spend every moment of my life in that prison with him and be in absolute ecstasy.

                Then I started to think about Celes.

                This woman who I said I had fallen in love with. I did love her didn't I? I could say the same about her?

                Well, I couldn't.

                I started to feel sick. This woman who I had said I was spending the rest of my life with, I didn't truly love her. We had talked of children. We were a couple.

                But I didn't want her. In fact I started to wonder if I ever did. My thoughts started drifting to all my loves. I immediately pleaded for Rachel's help in mediating this problem. She seemed to be unresponsive. I assumed she figured it was something I needed to sort myself.

                Or something she didn't know how to help, even in her present state.      

                And then my thoughts turned to someone I rarely thought about. She was someone I had loved. Yet so many others had pushed my thoughts for her aside.

                I reached the light at the end of the shaft. The cold metallic shaft turned upward to view the blue sky overhead. I pushed down to propel my self upward. I crawled out into the world with one name bouncing around inside my head.

                It was Terra.

                Locke closed the book and smiled. "All will be answered soon," he said to himself.


	9. Two Liars Makes A Couple

Two Liars Makes A Couple Bill Tilly Bill Tilly 1 1 2001-11-07T04:03:00Z 2001-11-07T04:04:00Z 1 1005 5729 None 47 13 6721 10.2625 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 st1:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} 

Two Liars Makes A Couple

So Locke Cole escapes the imprisonment he didn't want to end. He runs back to Celes Chere. He proposes to her. They decide to get married. They arrange a date. So on this date Locke Cole stands on the altar with Celes Chere supposedly listening to a priest re­cite their vows. But Locke Cole's mind is elsewhere.

Locke Cole is thinking all about his time spent with Klay. Locke Cole thinks about the intimacy he shared with Klay.

 It's the wedding day, high noon. A memory for the ages I say. Here I am standing before the priest, Father What'shisname, preparing to make my lifelong commitment to Celes. You could say she looks beautiful in her pure white wedding dress; sign of a virgin. My little liar Celes all dolled up for her special day.

That bitch.

I don't know who started this tradition. Right about now I'm not really caring about it. Besides, I don't want to marry Celes.

Then, as I glance towards our audience for this gruesome pub­lic display of affection, I catch Terra's eye. Or is it a display of public affection? 

                    Either way, my mind is millions of light years away thinking about my romantic splurge with psychic interrogator Klay. Who he works for is unknown, along with his reasons for kidnapping and choosing me for a subject in his little mind probe.

Doesn't matter either way.

You say you can't love, yet you watched me because you wanted to love me. Oh how you elude me Klay.

As I catch a quick glimpse of Terra I remember her name had been on my lips as I exited the imprisonment chamber. I remembered our first meeting.

That was when I confirmed love at first sight as being possible.

So who's still in love with whom? Terra found her kids. I found my Rachel. And after I did she left me for good. Thanks Espers.

Okay, so I got to talk to her one last time. That was won­derful. But still . . . I don't have her.

Dammit Rachel, can't I get over you?

So Terra, what can you do for me? Are you still in love with me? Or has that long passed? Sure, I acted like I had lost my love for you. I had my reasons. They're named Rachel and Celes. Terra, I'll never forget Rachel.

Celes was a controlling bitch that forced me to love her, or tricked me into thinking that I did. I'm sort of about to marry her here, therefore I'm having a tough time remembering.

I was a fool to give you up Terra. Perhaps Terra, several years from now when Celes and I are fighting everyday while throwing various objects at each other, you can come and be the true love in my life.

Unless I find my Klay.

Sorry to be a bringer of bad tidings Terra, but I definitely love Klay more so than you. In a lifetime partner sense that is. Terra, I want to be your great friend, and wouldn't mind being your lover. You just have to show your face more. Your kids have grown. They will be okay if you leave them for a while.

Terra, I want you around.

So, I'll make it nice and clear right now: the two people I truly love, well, neither is on this altar with me. Sad, of course it is. What would you expect from tragic Locke Cole?

Ah, here's one of your kids as the ring bearer. Perhaps the bearer of bad tidings isn't really me.

Oh, time for that age old ring ritual. Fine, I guess I'll partake in it.

Proclaiming false love is so much fun!

So all of my old friend's eyes are on me as I'm about to make my pact. Terra, Edgar, Sabin, Setzer, Gau, Relm, Clyde, and even an ailing Strago are watching. They're all watching. Proclaim your false love. Make us all happy. We didn't come here for nothing.

To have you once more Klay would be ecstasy. To feel you at my side Terra would be a blessing.

Oh, the priest asked me something I think.

"I do?"

"You may now kiss the bride."

Is that an option?

And so my lying virgin removes her veil. Not who I was hoping for. Perhaps I should have gone with door number two.

Ah my wonderful Celes, your lips are as sweet as the bile rising up my throat.

Aren't I just a hopeless romantic?

So it's down the aisle and out the door of our little church. Bye to Father What'shisname, bye to Terra's ring bearer.

Bye to a haunting memory. Hello to a new one. Perhaps more if I can live for the next three months.

I don't drink much but it's times like this when I need alcohol, right in my back pocket with a label reading In Case Of Marriage to an Overpowering Woman.

Rescue me Klay, rescue me Terra. I'm being hit with rice. Damn this day for ever happening.

Why do I have to have guilt complexes? 1. I know a wedding won't get me over it. Yet I propose. Guess that's just the kind of nice guy that I am.

You throw your rice, you clap, you're happy. This seems like it's all over for today.

Reception to commence in one hour.

Perhaps it's just me hallucinating, but as we step into our carriage I look to the wispy field of dandelions to my left. I see Klay, standing in the waist high weeds. He smiles.

Bad move. The telepathic thought rings in my head. He's gone when I look again.

So it's reception time back at my estate. Celes and I had our dances and kisses for the photographer. Now I'm sitting in a corner when Edgar comes to chat with me.

You know, I'm glad to see him.

"So, after all these months you've never told me."

I ask him what I haven't told him.

"Why you married her on such a whim." Edgar says.

I tell Edgar that we've been together for a long time.

"Spare me the story Locke. I can tell when things are up with you."

I say nothing's up. I love Celes with all my heart therefore I married her.

I'm choking on my words.

"Don't be scared Locke, tell me the truth.'1

I say I told the biggest lie of my lifetime today.

"Which was what?"

I say I do.

Edgar laughs. "So what started it all?"

I ask Edgar if he remembers when I was kidnapped a few months ago.

"Yeah."

I tell him all about Klay, about how he charmed me and how he made love to me. About him telling me that he watched me, wanting to fall in love with me. I tell Edgar about Klay's theory on his inability to love. He stares at me for a moment. I stare back.

"Then why did you get married to Celes today?" Guilt, I say.

"Guilty about what? About finding the right person for you? Celes may be a monster at times but eventually she'd understand."

I tell him I'm guilty about loving a man.

Edgar smirks. "That's nothing to be guilty over."

I ask him why not.

"You do know that Sabin and Gau have a relationship."

After getting over some light shock I say that Gau is a bit young.

"Gau will always be young." At that point Edgar stands up and walks away. I'm left there, thinking.

Then Terra steps up.

"Hi Locke."

"Hi Terra."

"Well," she smiles, "I'm happy for you!"

"Will you dance with me?" I ask.

"Sure."

And as we twirl to the music I whisper something very faint in her ear.

"Don't let go of me."


End file.
